Chapter #3Death of Killer Croc and the Birth of Lady Croc by: Ace of Kings Years ago, before Killer Croc came to be there was only Waylon Jones, 22 year old ex-circus freak living in a game reserve with his pregnant wife June Jones 19. They were a happy couple even if they did live in a swamp. Waylon was licensed to hunt wild game to be sold to restaurants in the city and June would grow all natural vegetables in their garden and life was good. That was until June died giving birth to their daughter who also suffered from her father's condition that gave him the appearance and similar skills of a croc. Doctors called it Epidermolytic Hyperkeratosis and said that it caused it's victims bodies to go back to a more primitive form. For Waylon it was a curse and a gift, it caused the death of both his wife and his mother who died giving birth to him, it was the object of ridicule and humiliation through out his life, as well as some medical issues. But it had also gave him away to provide for his family. Besides his thick crocodile like skin, it gave him near superhuman strength and stamina, it allowed him to hold his breath under water far longer than a normal human, he could eat anything that came his way especially uncooked meat, his sharp teeth and claws could, and his dark greenish skin color meant he could blend in to almost any environment. This made him a perfect hunter, able to bring down the biggest pray easily with his bare hands which he would the sell for top dollar. But now June was dead and he had a baby girl who also suffered from his cursed.
He sat in his easy chair, Sally in lap sucking on a bottle of formula he was holding, thinking to himself. It was his fault that his wife was dead and his daughter was a freak, just like it was his fault his mother was dead and his father abandon him. And with June dead there was no way he could catch game and raise a child, he should just put Sally up for adoption and kill himself. Just as he was thinking this his daughter burped and then giggled, which in turned made him laugh as well. He looked down at his beautifully little angle that to anyone else would have been a monster even though she was only showing slight signs of her conditions. Who would want her if he killed himself? The local towns people were afraid off them and the only person who would cared about them was a aging priest and he would soon be to old to take care of a child. It was there in his own run down shack of a home that he swore that he would do everything he could to make sure Sally had a better life than he did.
The next week he left his daughter with the local priest and then left for the nearby city of Gotham to get a job. But when he got there Waylon found no one was willing to hire him because he was a freak. No one came out and said it but the message got across, when the person told him "I am afraid Mr. Jones that you simply don't fit what we need." What they really meant was "We don't want a freak! Get out!" He spent weeks trying to find a job, and every day he was meet with more disappointments, and everywhere he went Waylon was ridiculed and mocked. "Hey look out it's Godzilla!" "Someone call the Crocodile Hunter, a gator escaped from the zoo!" With each passing day it got worst, the taunting was becoming unbearable, the inability to find a job made him like a failure, the guilt and grief he felt for his dead wife weighed heavily on his shoulders, but most of all his body ached to see his daughter again. But until he found away to make money he knew he couldn't return.
The final straw came at the end of his first month of job searching. Amazingly he had an interview for a chance to become a police officer. "Finally." Wyalon Jones thought to himself as he walked up the steps to the police station. "A job that is perfect for me! Hunting down bad guys, brining them in, using all my skills to make the city a better place. And people will respect me, no one will ever calm me or Sally a freak ever again. I will be the best police officer Gotham has ever seen! I promise you June, Sally will have a father to be proud of!" With his hopes high Wyalon made his way past all the desks and people that filled the room letting their whispered insults and comments bounce right off his tough skin. "Let them laugh! I will show them." He thought as he walked past.
But by the end of interview his hopes were smashed and for the rest of his life he remembered what the officer who was interviewing him said to him after he sat down. "Mr. Jones I am afraid that you don't have the necessary training to be a police officer." "But Officer Gordon, I have over 4 years of experience tracking wild game and before that I was trained in wrestling both men and crocs!" "I am afraid that tracking men and tracking animals are not the same thing. It also says here you killed a fellow inmate when you were in a detention center for boys when you were 13." "That was self defense! He came at me with a knife and he was 15!" "I am sorry but as impressive as that is we set our standards for police officers very high." "Oh I get it!" Said Waylon who after a month of humiliation, disappointments, false hope, and growing guilt was ready to blow. "You just don't like the idea of having a freak like me on the team. I thought the great Officer Gordon, partner of Batman, fighter of corruption, the only good cop left in this rat hole would be more open minded! But hey I guess your just like every other fucking asshole in this shit town! You know what!? It's your loss, if you don't want the best big game hunter in a hounded miles on the force, a man who takes down full grown moose by snapping their necks with his bear hands just because he has bad skin, well you got you wish! See you in hell Officer Gordon!" And with that the 8ft tall croc man stormed out.
Later that night Wyalon was sitting in a dirty old bar in the slums trying to drown his sorrows in cheap beer. As he sat there in his trench coat and hat, Gordon's words buzzing in his head he thought about all the problems that he faced. He had no more money, no more food, his skin was itchy since he hadn't been able to keep it wet, and worst was that according to Father Bryan Sally may have a cold. Caught in deep thoughts Waylon didn't even notice the two shady looking fellows walk up to him. "Excuse me sir." Said one of the men once they reached were he was sitting. "But me and collage were just wonder if it was true that you yelled at officer Gordon early this morning?" Asked the one that was on his left side. "Maybe. What's it to you?" Waylon roughly. "Well our boss was wondering if you would want a different kind of job were we could use a man of your skills." Guessing what kind of job it was he was about to turn them down, then he looked at the golden locket in his hand which held a picture of his wife and of his daughter and said, "How much will it pay?"
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